


Every Evening After Sundown

by adrift_me



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Healing, Living Together, M/M, No Grindelwald, Obscurus!Credence still, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 18:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11765928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me
Summary: Percival Graves is a modern day MACUSA Director, who is asked to take care of the only survivor of the Second Salem church takedown. Credence Barebone is nothing like he expected, and everything that he did not.





	Every Evening After Sundown

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fluffy silly fic which I will be publishing as I go. Call it a relaxing excercise and a need for nice modern magic AU with domestic fluff!
> 
> Fic title is from my favourite Gary Moore's song called "Midnight Blues".
> 
> [Come chat with me on tumblr :)](https://accio-toffy.tumblr.com/)

Percival stares at Tina awestruck, holding a piece of a half-eaten toast in his hand.

“You cannot possibly be serious.”

She looks back with her large puppy eyes, an expression Percival hates at times because it makes all her demands irresistible. But even now, when she asks for the impossible, he tries his best not to fall under the woman’s charm.

“Only for a week until we can move him to a new home. Just a week. He won’t be a trouble, he’s such a lovely young man. You will barely see him.”

Percival huffs. She wants him to take that church boy in his apartment for a whole week, depriving him of peace and privacy and adding another responsibility to his already duty-heavy shoulders.

She has always been a handful, Tina. One of the most capable aurors under his command, who has just brought down the entire Second Salem church almost single-handedly to save the boy in question. The boy who is currently somewhere behind the door, waiting for Percival’s decision.

“It you worry about him so much, take him to your place,” Percival crosses his arms and leans at the kitchen counter, careful not to flip over his toaster. It’s not like he can’t fix it, but it would be another reason to be grumpy.

“You know I can’t, Mr. Graves, not when Queenie just had a baby.”

Graves pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course, Queenie and her No-Maj husband. The first couple to get married after the cancellation of the Rappaport’s Law. Graves thinks they are all doing it on purpose, getting married, now that the restrictions have been lifted, allowing magically gifted people to seep into the world of technologies and free wi-fi without obstacles.

But then, there’s the Second Salem church, a place and organization Tina has told him plenty about. They live in atrocious conditions, because not only do they defy modern technologies such as electricity, Internet and other accommodations, but also fight against magic. When he first heard about it, the ridicule of the situation made Percival roll eyes and brush it off up until the point when they turned violent on the streets and somehow managed to track down a few people of Percival’s kind, the wizards. He remembers vividly ordering Tina to take a team of aurors to investigate, only to hear later that Tina alone was capable of shutting the entire organization down once and for all. It struck him as barely possible, but Tina _is_ extraordinary, after all.

And of course, he’s heard it all about the boy. How beaten up he is, how mistreated and lonely he is. How Tina wanted to get him out of that hell and give him hope.

Percival’s heart clenches a little at the thought, more with curiosity than compassion. He knows Tina to be a woman of a tough heart. She doesn’t truly worry about homeless puppies and kittens in the vicinity, let alone people. He knows for a fact that with people she is tougher and more judging, hard to get to. What on Earth is so special about the boy that even Tina lost her temper and tore down the entire organization?

Percival rubs his nose and breathes out in submission.

“Fine. I’ll take him for a week.”

Tina’s expression changes from begging to triumphant and she immediately opens the door and pulls the boy into the room.

Except that when Percival looks at him, it’s not a boy at all. It’s a young man, tall and disproportionate because of his hunching posture and his head hanging low. For a split second Percival catches a glimpse of the young man’s eyes which are sure to impress the darkness that stared at him from their depth in Percival’s memory.

“Credence, this is Mr. Graves, like I told you. He is my boss and a very good man. He will take care of you while we set up a new home for you to move to,” Tina holds his forearm gently in a crook of her own. Percival watches her behaviour carefully, remembers what she does and what she doesn’t do. Credence raises his eyes again and they pause somewhere around Percival’s chin.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Graves.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he replies and receives an appreciative nod from Tina. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need while you stay with me.”

The young man doesn’t look up but Percival can see a faint blush touch his cheeks.

“I have to go. There is so much paperwork to do,” Tina says it almost poignantly, eyes trained on her boss. He ignores her piercing glance and moves forward to pat her shoulder.

“You go. We’ll pull through,” Percival’s lips almost stretch in a smile but he stops it before too late. The auror slides her arm out of Credence’s and gives him a small smile. She is almost out of the apartment when they hear Credence’s voice.

“Miss Goldstein!” He turns around abruptly, going after her. “Thank you… for saving me.”

Percival looks at his auror in surprise when her eyes well up with tears and she pulls the boy in a hug. His arms wrap around her clumsily and he buries head in her shoulder.

“I’ll visit you soon. Be a good man as you are,” she kisses his forehead and leaves Credence and Percival alone.

***

Credence reminds Percival of a curious cat when they walk around his apartment. His steps are careful and his eyes are shy to look up. Percival may not be a people person, but his job requires him to understand.

He does understand Credence, especially after carefully reading his file. Knows why his shoulders are hunched, why his voice is below the level, why he is so careful. What he doesn’t understand is how the leader of the Salemers, Mary Lou Barebone, now tried and sentenced, had the will and guts to abuse the young man to such extent. Tina’s full report is still on Percival’s desk both at home and at work and he stashes it away from Credence’s eyes; eyes that have seen enough pain.

“You have a beautiful apartment,” Credence says quietly when they emerge from the living room into the adjoined kitchen.

“Thank you. Anything you see is at your disposal. And if you need help with any appliances, I will explain,” Percival says softly. Credence nods and hugs himself. He is still wearing a ragged t-shirt under a no less ragged thin leather jacket and mismatching pants that look like they are coming from a formal suit.

Percival moves around the counter and busies himself with tea making. He makes a soft swish in the air, making the water boil and loose leaves place itself in a small teapot.

It’s only when he looks up that he sees Credence staring at the magical action of the tea meaking. Percival knows Credence was let to keep all his memories of Tina’s magical intervention (much at Tina’s own insistence) and thus he shouldn’t be really surprised by seeing a self-stirring cup. But there’s something almost childish in the way the young man watches it, and Percival’s insides warm.

It’s not every day someone admires his magic, even if it’s just a lousy cup of tea.

Percival continues performing magic as they move back into the living room. Makes scattered clothing fold into neat stacks, cleans a lone coffee cup on the table and revives a dry violet flower in a small vase. There’s a TV by the wall and it’s blasting some magical beasts documentary, which Credence ignores entirely, staring at his cup gone cold. Percival’s heart floods with odd warmth again at the sight of the young man who sits in his large armchair, legs pulled up.

Percival has never had anyone he cared about, save for the short infatuation in his earlier years in MACUSA. After something that can be at best described as “estrangement”, Percival hasn’t let people close enough to pass through the walls he put up.

Now that he has a charge thrown in his peaceful life to look after, the auror realises a certain amount of social change is in order, even if he doesn’t exactly will it. He puts on a smile and looks at the boy.

“Credence…”

The young man hums in acknowledgement in return without looking up.

Percival says nothing in the end, but watches Credence from his place, head tilted and a little finger placed thoughtfully on his lower lip.

The city night washes Credence in warm orange light, pouring richly from the outside. There are busy noises, crowd chatter, laughter and even distant music from a club if one strains to hear it. Credence doesn’t react to it, merely shifts in his armchair a little, as if feeling cold, and bites on full lips. His sad eyes look lost in thoughts, verging on the edge of crying. Even like that, Credence is… beautiful.

Percival shakes his head and wakes back up to reality, gaze sliding off Credence’s face. His cheeks flush a little and he brushes his uncalled for thoughts away.

“It’s late. I imagine you are tired. Let’s get you in bed,” Percival says, feeling awkward blush seep in his cheeks at his own choice of words. Credence seems to remain oblivious as he rises from the sofa and looks briefly up in expectancy. Graves reaches out to pat his shoulder, to which Credence flinches away.

Silence becomes tense and Percival, though unwillingly, turns around to break the tension and enchants the sofa into unfolding itself and covering with sheets. He could do it by hand just as easily, but he sees from the corner of his eye that Credence is watching in awe as a blanket unfolds on the bed and pillows fluff in the air. There is a ghost of a smile on his lips, and Percival smiles a little too.

“Good night, Credence. If you need anything, I am near.”

“Thank you, Mr. Graves. I’ll try not to be a burden,” it’s many words to spell and Credence chokes them out, glancing at Percival, a small smile still decorating him.

“Call me Percival, Credence. And you couldn’t be a burden.”

Graves leaves for his room, surprised that what he said is entirely true.

***

A small electronic clock flicks to life with 3:00AM on its front.

Sleepless nights are a normal occurrence for Graves. His body seems to have become resistant to magical sleep concoctions as much as soothing softness of pillows. Percival has many reasons for his body to reject sleep so violently: work has taken over his mind and memories, dragging him in the darkest corners. He would toss in warm sheets and think about this or that case MACUSA handled or an auror dying needlessly in a battle or dark wizards either left to rot in jail or thrown into the No-Maj world with their memories wiped and magical gift blocked.

This night it’s the case of the Second Salemers that bothers him. Something is off, he feels, the easiness with which Tina managed to magically bind down a few dozens of people, destroy the church, wipe most people’s memory and save Credence. He has never doubted his auror, but even this was too much for Tina. In fact, he doubts he would be able to do as much on his own, and his strength and skill surpass Tina’s by far.

Percival turns on his side and huffs. His eyes fixate on a small patch of light which appears from the car outside. It emerges at the side of his room’s ceiling, glides over its surface and disappears into the darkness. Silence falls once more.

Except that there is another noise he can hear now. Crying.

Percival slides out of his bed heavily, not bothering to throw a robe over his shoulders, and walks out into the living room where Credence lies in a bulk of a fluffy blanket. There he is, face buried in soft rolls of fabric, his soot black hair mussed. Soft crying noises are audible dully from the blanket where his face rests.

Percival immediately sits on the edge of the sofa-bed and offers his wide-spread arms to Credence, who without a question climbs into his embrace.

“There, there,” Percival says mildly, running a hand over Credence’s head and squeezing his shoulder with another. He is surprised to find himself so open to welcome Credence into a hug, but it’s comforting nonetheless. As Percival’s fingers carefully glide over the young man’s hair, he only cries harder, hands clutching at the man’s shoulders. His grip is immense but as minutes go by and tears run out, his hold wanes. Soon enough his is cradled in Percival’s arms, breathing roughly but crying no more.

“I can see their faces,” he says at last in broken whisper. Graves frowns. “Ma looks at me angrily when I… when I…”

The boy breaks into tears again and Percival gathers him in his arms soothingly. While Credence gets rid of whatever pain he has through tears, the auror frowns in his shoulder, wondering if he finally has a final Second Salem puzzle piece in his hands.

Of course, it has never been Tina who brought the Second Salem church down. It is the one who suffered from its hands the most.


End file.
